LUST'S DOMINION;

OR,

THE LASCIVIOUS QUEEN.

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I.

Enter ZARACK, BALTAZAR, two Moors, taking tobacco; music sounding within: enter QUEEN MOTHER of SPAIN with two PAGES: ELEAZAR, sitting on a chair: the curtain is suddenly drawn.* ELEAZ. ON me does music spend this sound! on

me,

That hate all unity! ah! Zarac, Baltazar!

Q. Mo. My gracious lord.

ELEAZ. Are you there with your beagles! hark, you slaves!

Did not I bind you on your lives to watch,

That none disturb'd us?

Q. Mo. Gentle Eleazar.

ELEAZ. There, off: is't you that deaf me with [Exeunt two Moors.

this noise?

*The curtain, in front of the old theatres, divided in the middle, and was drawn to the sides: "and beside the principal curtain they sometimes used others as substitutes for scenes."-Matone.

Q. Mo. Why is my love's aspect so grim and

horrid ?

Look smoothly on me ;

Chime out your softest strains of harmony,

And on delicious music's silken wings

Send ravishing delight to my love's ears,
That he may be enamoured of your tunes.
Come, let's kiss.

ELEAZ. Away, away!

Q. Mo. No, no, says aye; and twice away, says

stay:

Come, come, I'll have a kiss; but, if you strive,
For one denial, you shall forfeit five.

ELEAZ. Nay, prithee, good queen, leave me ;

I am now sick, heavy, and dull as lead.

Q. Mo. I'll make thee lighter by taking something from thee.

ELEAZ. Do: take from me this ague, and these fits;

That, hanging on me,

Shake me in pieces, and set all my blood

A boiling with the fire of rage; away, away!

Thou believ'st I jest,

And laugh'st to see my wrath wear antic shapes:
Begone, begone!

Q. Mo. What means my love?

Burst all those wires; burn all those instruments;
For they displease my Moor. Art thou now pleas'd?
Or wert thou now disturb'd? I'll wage all Spain,
To one sweet kiss, this is some new device

To make me fond and long. Oh! you men
Have tricks to make poor women die for you.
ELEAZ. What, die for me? away!

Q. Mo. Away! what way? I pr'ythee speak more kindly;

Why dost thou frown? at whom?

ELEAZ. At thee.

Q. Mo. At me!

Oh! why at me? For each contracted frown,
A crooked wrinkle interlines my brow:
Spend but one hour in frowns, and I shall look
Like to a beldam of one hundred years.

I pr'ythee speak to me, and chide me not.
I pr'ythee, chide, if I have done amiss;

But let my punishment be this, and this; [Kisses him.
I pr'ythee, smile on me, if but awhile;

Then frown on me, I'll die: I pr'ythee smile.
Smile on me, and these two wanton boys;
These pretty lads that do attend on me,
Shall call thee Jove, shall wait upon thy cup,
And fill thee nectar: their inticing eyes
Shall serve as crystal, wherein thou may'st see
To dress thyself, if thou wilt smile on me.
Smile on me, and with coronets of pearl,
And bells of gold, circling their pretty arms,
In a round ivory fount these two shall swim,
And dive to make thee sport:

Bestow one smile, one little little smile
And in a net of twisted silk and gold
In my all-naked arms thyself shalt lie.

VOL. II.

14

ELEAZ. Why, what to do? Lust's arms do stretch

so wide

That none can fill them: I lay there! away!

Q. Mo. Where hast thou learn'd this language,

that can say

No more but two rude words? away, away.

Am I grown ugly now?

ELEAZ. Ugly as hell.

Q. Mo. Thou lov❜dst me once.

ELEAZ. That can thy bastards tell.

Q. Mo. What is my sin? I will amend the same. ELEAZ. Hence, strumpet! use of sin makes thee past shame.

Q. Mo. Strumpet!

ELEAZ. Aye, strumpet.

Q. Mo. Too true 'tis, woe is me!

I am a strumpet, but made so by thee.

ELEAZ. By me!

No no, by these young bawds: fetch thee a glass
And thou shalt see the balls of both thine eyes
Burning in fire of lust. By me! there's here
Within this hollow cistern of thy breast,

A spring of hot blood: have not I to cool it
Made an extraction to the quintessence,
Even of my soul; melted all my spirits,
Ravish'd my youth, deflour'd my lovely cheeks,
And dried this, this, to an anatomy,

Only to feed your lust? (these boys have ears,) [aside.
Yet wouldst thou murder me.

Q. Mo. I murder thee!

ELEAZ. I cannot ride through the Castilian streets, But thousand eyes, through windows and through doors,

Throw killing looks at me; and every slave

At Eleazar darts a finger out,

And every hissing tongue cries, " There's the Moor; That's he that makes a cuckold of our king;

There goes the minion of the Spanish queen ;
That's the black prince of devils; there goes he,
That on smooth boys, on masks, and revellings,
Spend the revenues of the King of Spain.'
Who arms this many-headed beast, but you?
Murder and lust are twins, and both are thine.
Being weary of me, thou wouldst worry me,
Because some new love makes thee loathe thine old.
Q. Mo. Eleazar !

ELEAZ. Harlot, I'll not hear thee speak.

Q. Mo. I'll kill myself unless thou hear'st me

speak.

My husband-king upon his death-bed lies,
Yet have I stol'n from him to look on thee:
A queen hath made herself thy concubine,
Yet dost thou now abhor me; hear me speak,
Else shall my sons plague thy adult'rous wrongs,
And tread upon thy heart for murd'ring me:
This tongue hath murder'd me. Cry murder, boys!
2 Boys. Murder! the queen's murder'd!
ELEAZ. Love! slaves, peace!

2 Boys. Murder! the queen's murder'd!
ELEAZ. Stop your throats!